Santa Comes But Once A Year
by CSIBritfan
Summary: Sara is snoozing, until Santa arrives with a present she will never forget. GSR smut.


**_This was inspired while I was Christmas Shopping. Someone, I don't know who but I love them, invented a Santa toy which drops its trousers to 'Santa Baby!' This truly demonstrates how twisted I am that it spawned this story._**

**_Disclaimer - neither Grissom, Sara or CSI belong to me. I'm just having a little festive fun with them._**

**_It may suprise you to learn that I don't own Santa Baby, Santa Clause is Coming to Town or Twas the Night Before Christmas either..._**

**_It's quite out of character, but it's just a bit of fluffy smut, really. It's a one shot, but I hope it makes you smile!_**

**Santa Comes But Once A Year**

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all round the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…'

Sara Sidle was snoozing on the sofa. The Christmas tree lights were splashing a mellow vanilla tone across the neutrally painted walls. The log fire gave a lovely, reassuring heat, clinging to her tired bones. As she shuffled to get comfortable, the leather cushioning her gave a gentle creak. Her final shift before Christmas was being slept off. Her glass of mulled wine was standing abandoned on the rug. Just as she had been. She was dreading Christmas this year. Alone. Grissom couldn't be any further away from her during the festive time. She planned on catching up on her sleep. This was the starting point. She didn't want to sleep in her bed. He wasn't going to be in it. The sofa would be just fine.

An hour passed…

And another…

Sara stirred, but didn't wake up…

Suddenly, she shot up from her slumbers… someone was there…

'Wha'?' she managed, sitting bolt up right.

A brilliant, shining white light surrounded her… rose petals cascaded around her. This was the weirdest B and E she had ever seen…

'Yo, ho, ho, and a Merry Christmas to you, young lady…' a gentle voice whispered from the blinding light.

'Santa…?' Sara could not believe she had just said that. How old was she?! She didn't think she ever believed in Father Christmas… well, not since she was five and all she got for Christmas was a broken arm. It sort of took the gloss off it all, sitting in casualty with all the drunks leering at her and throwing up on her shoes.

Something wasn't right. Why did Santa have her stereo remote in his hand?

'Santa, baby, put a sable under the tree, for me…

Been an awful good girl…'

'Have you been a good girl, Miss Sara?' Father Christmas asked. The powerful white light clicked off suddenly. A torch? What was going on? She knew she was barely awake… or barely asleep… one of the two… There was something about the shape of Santa… strong, broad shoulders, flexing fingers in a white, gloved hand, piercing blue eyes…

'Gri……..mphhh.'

Sara's eyes widened to popping point, as a finger gently touched her lips, silencing her immediately. The flashing lights of the tree outlined, momentarily, the red clad, white fur trimmed stranger in her home.

'Think of all the fun I've missed. Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed,' Marilyn Monroe seductively breathed through the room.

'Have you been kissing fellas, Miss Sara?'

'Just one,' she gasped, 'a sexy little scientist called Grissom…'

'Is he a good boy?'

'Oh, yes, he is a very good boy…' Her sentence was cut off as Santa's lips gently met hers, caressing her mouth with a heated sensuousness.

As quickly as his lips touched, they were taken away, leaving Sara desperate for more. The stubble touched and chaffed against her upper lip, sending a quick ripple of delight through her. He had been a busy bunny during the year - growing his sexy beard back… just for her. Clever Santa.

Santa moved away from her. Was he swaying to the music? Was he dancing? Sara raised an eyebrow. No, he was wiggling his hips in rhythm to the bassline and brushed percussion, until, finger by finger, his white gloves were pulled away – left hand then right… each thrown at the amazed Sara, still sitting on the sofa, watching, mouth hanging open, fighting a huge grin away from her lips.

He turned around, his backside pushing the red trousers to their limits, filling them quite beautifully, as he gyrated one way, then the other. Sara had to giggle. A stripping Santa… She clapped her hands together with the rhythm of the music, as first the left side of Santa's jacket, then the right, opened and closed, like butterfly wings. Very slowly, he peeled one shoulder out of the costume, his soft skin catching the light of the tree, then the other, even more gradually pulling the jacket down his back…

Sara's eyes shone with burning desire. She had never expected this of her shy entomologist.

With a cheeky grin, Santa spun round to face the enraptured woman on the sofa. A few more hip thrusts, sideways, backwards and forwards were followed by him running his hands, fingers splayed, down his naked chest. He thumbed the waistband of his trousers, but didn't wait for a button… his hands continued roaming down, along his thighs, until they stopped and grabbed a handful of red material each. Santa closed his eyes and prayed as he thrust his hips backwards and pulled the fistfuls of fabric forwards, splitting each trouser leg along the Velcro seams… He had processed a male stripper several years ago and was fascinated by the garment. During his preparation of this gift, he just had to recreate the effect.

His audience gave a little squeal of delight and hid her face behind a cushion. She wanted to look away, but how could she? This was the best present Santa could ever bring her. And there he stood, in nothing more than a red Santa hat with white pom pom and red silk boxers, with a shy, boyish smile on his face. Sara stood and walked towards him, her eyes burning into his soul. Without a pause for breath, she locked her pouting lips on his and flung her arms around his neck and shoulders, kissing all his love for her out of him.

'Grissom…'

'Ah, ah, ah, no, honey, Santa…'

'Ok, Santa,' she smirked, 'How did you know I wanted you for Christmas?'

''Santa reads all your letters… especially to Williamstown… I have access to everyone's emails, you see. So I can tell who has been naughty and nice…?

'Well, Santa Clause has very definitely come to town,' she whispered on to his lips, pulling him down on to the rug in front of the open fire. Her hands slipped into his boxers, stroking the gentle rise and fall curve of his naked butt, kneading and pulling at it as he bent lower to kiss her as passionately as he ever could. Lips, tongues and gasps writhed in a burning desire on the floor.

'Now it's my turn…' Santa whispered, gazing at her flushed cheeks with an evil grin.

'For what?' She uttered, frantically trying to recompose herself.

'To unwrap my Christmas present…'

His hand traced gentle patterns across her vest top as he looked into her receptive eyes. It slithered underneath, grazing the sensitive flesh around he belly button. Gentle gasps and twitches evolved from the prone Miss Sidle, totally lost in the eroticism of the moment. She was even more lost to him as his newly grown scruff dragged across her abdomen as his tongue flicked in and out, around her navel.

'Ohhhhhhhhh, the…. be….be...ard…is…….ba –ck…..'

'Call it your Christmas present…' he groaned, fully engrossed in his work. His hands grasped her top and pulled it over her shoulders and his hands dragged it down the length of her arms, pinning her down to the floor like one of his mounted specimens. His mouth took the opportunity to envelope a nipple, flicking it with his tongue, alternating with gentle nips and agonisingly devilish sucks, releasing then recapturing as his free hand teased and toyed with the other.

Sara found herself volunteering her inner sanctum to him, her legs writhing in spasms of uncontrollable ecstasy. His hand traced her flank, tickling her sensitive skin with the back of his fingers, reaching the top of her pyjama bottoms. He inserted one finger under the elastic and traced it around the underside of the garment, each sweep pulling the fabric lower and lower until she was fully exposed to him. She could do nothing but allow entry, as his clever hands followed the shadows of hair down to the warm and inviting area below. She stretched herself wider to accommodate him as he massaged her tiny bundle of nerves and prepared her for what was to come.

Her hands found their way back down to his ass, grasping it in reflex to his ministrations. She fingered the waistband of his boxers and with one push, he was naked. She wrapped her lengthy legs around him, rubbing against his hairy legs, her neck arching, grinding the back of her head into the floor. He pushed his diamond hard erection into her, eliciting a gasp of approval as he thrust harder and harder, quicker and quicker into her, riding her like Santa rides his sleigh. Their breathing quickened, their gasps and grunts crescendo-ed until finally Santa came on Christmas morning. Unceremoniously, he collapsed, spineless and boneless, wrapped in the arms and legs of his lover, his shoulders rising harshly as he caught his breath and wiped his brow.

'Merry Christmas, Sara,' he gasped, stroking her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear.

'Thank you, Santa,' Sara cooed, brushing Grissom's sweaty curls back from his forehead, gently kissing it in appreciation. 'But, I heard you only came once a year…'

Grissom spluttered, and rolled her over onto her side, so they were face to face, chest to breast, legs still entwined.

'Give me five minutes, and I'll see what I can do,' he grinned.

Suddenly, Christmas looked very promising indeed.

**_AN- 'Twas the Night Before Christmas – by Jane Burton_**

'**_Santa Baby' – originally sung by Marilyn Monroe _**

'**_Santa Claus is Coming to Town' – originally sung by the Jackson Five_**

_**None of them are mine, so please don't sue.**_


End file.
